The Guardians of the Halahala (14 page)

Indra watched the riders depart, a smile spreading over his broad, bearded face. “Fetch me some
soma,
my dear,” he said, addressing the apsara. “Let me drink to the success of the Brotherhood of the Ashvins.”

“As you wish, lord,” the apsara answered. She entered the room adjoining the balcony and returned shortly with a goblet brimming with the rich wine.

Indra gulped down half the contents of the goblet and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Soon, the Halahala will be ours,” he said, beaming to himself. “For millennia I have waited for this day, this moment.”

“But lord, isn't it too early to assume the Ashvins will succeed?” the apsara tilted her head saucily, her enigmatic eyes on Indra. “What makes you think the human king will give up without a fight?”

“My dear Urvashi, for
his
sake and the sake of his precious little kingdom, I hope he isn't foolish enough to come in their way,” Indra replied, his voice bubbling with scorn. He paused as the roar of hoof beats rushing across the southern drawbridge filled the air, echoing from the abyss surrounding the palace.

“Do you hear that?” Indra asked, taking the apsara by the shoulder and drawing her close. “The dreaded Ashvin cavalry of Devaloka, led by the able Nasatya and Dasra. Those horse hooves can pound the soil of Avanti into infertile dust, and those riders can reduce the city of Ujjayini to rubble.”

“But it seems to me that the human king isn't easily intimidated,” Urvashi fluttered her eyelids flirtatiously, her tone teasing. “Poor Narada literally had the palace door slammed on his face.”

The king of the devas threw his head back and emptied the goblet. Then, bringing his face close to Urvashi's, he whispered softly in her ear. “If the human king tries to thwart me again, I promise to strike unspeakable fear in his heart.”

His hand dropped and went around the apsara's slender waist, groping and squeezing her bare midriff in arousal. “He had the audacity to rebuff my offer of friendship – I will now make him feel the crushing might and fury of Indra's enmity.”

Dark

T
here was still an hour to sundown, but the heavy clouds hanging over Ujjayini had darkened the city, forcing its inhabitants to light the lamps early. Intermittent rain and squally winds continued to lash the capital, keeping most of the citizenry off the streets.

Within the council chamber, two palace attendants bearing small torches moved on silent feet, igniting lamps that stood in recesses in the walls. A third attendant went around the room, closing the windows to keep the draft from extinguishing the freshly-lit lamps.

Vikramaditya and his councilors sat around the table, waiting patiently for the attendants to finish their chore. The glow from the lamps gradually dispelled the gloom, and in their light, it was possible to see a large map of Sindhuvarta, woven in red satin and embroidered with gold threads, spread out on the council table.

At last, when all the lamps were lit and all the windows shuttered, the three attendants bowed deeply and backed out of the chamber. The king waited for the heavy door to shut before he looked at Vararuchi.

“Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You were saying something before we were interrupted...”

“I was saying that the four thousand soldiers and thousand horsemen that King Harihara had promised us are already in Avanti, on their way to Udaypuri,” Vararuchi replied. “So we can now divert some of
our
soldiers to the south.”

“It is something we could consider,” the samrat nodded, though the idea appeared to trouble him.

“Yes, but the point is where do we station them?” Dhanavantri asked. Pointing to the map on the table, he added, “The Mother Oracle has only said that this... sightless evil, whatever it is, will come from the south. In geographical terms, the south is a very broad area – it could apply to
any
point south of Ujjayini. If we know nothing about where this thing will come from, where do we position our troops?”

“Not to mention that we know nothing about
when
it will come either,” remarked Varahamihira, rubbing his pockmarked chin morosely.

“The troops should stay on standby in the garrison of Ujjayini,” Vikramaditya spoke with firmness. “If they are here, they can be dispatched wherever necessary the moment we receive some concrete information about this... thing.”

“That's being practical,” agreed Vetala Bhatta, glancing around the table. “It's better than spreading ourselves thin trying to plug all possible entry points to the south.”

As heads nodded in agreement, Kshapanaka spoke. “How many troops of the Imperial Army do we put on standby?”

The councilors looked at one another indecisively.

“As Vararuchi said, we have an additional four thousand soldiers and thousand horsemen from Heheya on the way to the border,” Dhanavantri shrugged his fat shoulders. “Perhaps an equal number will suffice?”

“We also need to keep enough troops ready for quick deployment to the west,” the Acharya pointed out. “Let's not forget what the Mother Oracle said about the wall of dust.”

“Then perhaps half that number?” Vararuchi looked at his brother inquiringly. “With maybe five hundred archers to give them support?”

While Vikramaditya considered this, Kalidasa cleared his throat. “The Warriors of the Oath are also at our disposal, samrat,” he reminded.

“Yes, but let's keep them in reserve,” the king answered. “The
samsaptakas
should be the last line of defense – when everything else fails.”

Turning to Vararuchi, he added, “How many troops we shall need to counter this sightless entity is anybody's guess. But for now, a thousand infantry units and five hundred of cavalry and archers each would be fine, I suppose. We can also rope in two or three contingents of the City Watch, if necessary. And anyway some of us - or maybe most of us - would have to lead the defense.”

Seeing that the matter was settled, Vetala Bhatta addressed Vararuchi and Varahamihira. “If the soldiers are being stationed at Ujjayini, we will need a system in place to relay messages swiftly from the south.”

“I have already deployed a network of riders to the south, raj-guru,” said Vararuchi. “I realized that owing to the rainy conditions, we cannot bank on the
suryayantras
to transmit signals. And even flares aren't entirely dependable in this weather, given the damp and poor visibility.”

“Riders make sense,” the Acharya nodded in satisfaction.

At that moment, there was a light knock on the door of the council chamber. As the councilors turned, the door opened to admit a palace hand.

“Salutations to the samrat and the Council of Nine,” said the attendant before addressing the Acharya. “Pardon the interruption, but a rider awaits you in your private chamber, raj-guru. He says he has an important message to deliver.”

Vetala Bhatta exchanged a glance with Vikramaditya, who nodded. The chief councilor rose from the table and exited the room. Meanwhile, the samrat turned to Vararuchi.

“How are things at the border? King Chandravardhan had said he would send five thousand soldiers...”

“I have checked on that,” Vararuchi reassured the king. “There's been a delay, but his troops are crossing over from Vatsa as we speak.”

“What about the reinforcements from the Anarta Federation?”

“Of the fifteen thousand troops that Chief Yugandhara had promised, nine thousand have arrived. Unfortunately, I have already dispatched all nine thousand to King Baanahasta's court in Viratapuri – I thought it would be a good idea to strengthen Matsya's borders against an eventuality.” Vararuchi ran his fingers through his hair ruefully. “Perhaps I should have retained half the number and sent them to Udaypuri instead. We could then have kept more of our soldiers here on standby to deal with...”

“No! Our soldiers need to be in the frontline,” Vikramaditya interrupted, getting the drift of his brother's thoughts. “Vatsa, Heheya and the Anartas have pledged their support in the understanding that the might of Avanti's Imperial Army will be at the frontier, standing shoulder to shoulder with their own troops in the defense of Sindhuvarta. The forces they've sent are reinforcements, not substitutes for our soldiers. Keeping the invaders out is a shared responsibility, so no matter what, we shouldn't hold more of our own troops back for Avanti's narrow gains. Whatever is coming from the south is a headache, but we'll have to make do with the two thousand units we've already decided on. Let's tackle this without breaching the trust of our allies.”

Smarting and chastised by the king's words, no one spoke for a while. It was the royal physician who broke the pause by bringing a subtle change to the topic. “Any news from Amara Simha?”

“Nothing today, so I surmise everything is under control. But his message yesterday did say that he has begun overseeing troop deployments along the frontier.” As an afterthought, Vararuchi added, “The message also made special mention of Satyaveda being a pompous, sniveling fool.”

Knowing smiles cropped up around the table, the councilors' heads shaking in resignation. Even Shanku shed her habitual reserve, permitting herself a tinkle of laughter.

“The governor must have rubbed Amara Simha the wrong way and had his head chewed off,” Dhanavantri chuckled.

“What else did Amara Simha expect from him!” exclaimed Varahamihira. “We very well know how unbearable Satyaveda can be. I find it hard to believe that the governor comes from the same noble ancestry as Acharya Vedavidya and Councilor Sagopana – may their souls rest in peace.” With an exaggerated shudder, he added, “Imagine our plight if we had to suffer Satyaveda at this table every day?”

“Seeing him being packed off to Malawa was such a relief,” agreed Vararuchi. “We don't thank the Acharya enough for that.”

“Let's not be too harsh on the man,” Vikramaditya intervened with a smile. “I concede he is too full of himself and a tad incompetent, but he is otherwise quite harmless.”

“Pride and incompetence – what more harm need anyone inflict on his fellow beings, my king?” Dhanavantri shot back with a grin.

Once the ripple of laughter subsided, the samrat addressed his brother again. “Did Amara Simha say anything about how Ghatakarpara is faring?” The king's voice had a faint trace of avuncular concern in it.

“No, he didn't,” replied Vararuchi. “But he had a note of praise for Ghatakarpara's friend Atulyateja – the garrison commander at Udaypuri. He said the boy was resourceful and efficient, and was being a big help in coordinating troop movements.”

“Then perhaps he should be rewarded with a transfer to the Imperial Army,” suggested Varahamihira.

Seeing the heads around the table nod in agreement, Kshapanaka spoke up. “Your intentions are honorable, Varahamihira, but I disagree. If all the best soldiers are drafted into the Imperial Army, what happens to the Frontier Guard? To stand on its legs, the Frontier Guard also needs young men of talent and caliber.”

Varahamihira gave this thoughtful consideration. “You're right,” he said at last. “Stuffing the Imperial Army with the best brains defeats the purpose of creating a strong Frontier Guard. We must...” He paused as his glance went to the door, where Vetala Bhatta had just made a re-entry. “What happened, raj-guru? Is there a problem?”

The Acharya remained silent as he returned to the table, lowered himself into his chair and studied the faces looking at him. When he turned to the samrat, his tone was sober and measured. “The rider has brought news from our spies in the east. King Siddhasena is dead.”

A hush fell over the chamber, which was broken by Dhanavantri. “Poor man, he didn't look too well to me when he was here for the
rajasuya yajna.
I intended prescribing him...”

“Siddhasena didn't die of illness or age,” the raj-guru interrupted the royal physician. “He was apparently killed-pushed down a flight of steps in the palace of Girivraja.”

The expressions on the councilors' faces turned to shock and revulsion.

“Who pushed him?” Vikramaditya demanded.

“It seems it was his bodyguard, Sajaya.”

“That's impossible,” cried Vararuchi. “I have seen Sajaya in battle by Siddhasena's side. He is the sort of soldier who is prepared to give his life for his king. He couldn't have been disloyal to Siddhasena.”

“Yet, it is being made out as a Kikata conspiracy against Magadha,” the Acharya shrugged. “Sajaya belonged to the Kikata tribe.”

“Were there any witnesses to the guard's act?” the samrat leaned forward and scrutinized Vetala Bhatta's face closely. “There was one – Shoorasena himself.”

The king raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And the guard has admitted to killing the king?”

The raj-guru shook his head slowly. “It seems he was killed by Shoorasena in revenge.”

As the councilors digested this news, the samrat leaned back in his chair. “Things are not going well in Magadha,” he said, staring into the distance.

“Not well, meaning...?” Vararuchi asked cautiously.

“I mean what's happening in Magadha is bad news for the rest of us in Sindhuvarta.” Vikramaditya looked at the puzzled faces staring at him. “I'll explain... When the deva Narada was here, trying to buy our friendship and negotiate an agreement for the dagger, there was something that he said which struck me.”

The king paused for breath, and Kalidasa cut in. “I remember him saying that there is trouble brewing in the east.”

“Precisely,” said Vikramaditya, snapping his fingers. “Perhaps this was what Narada was referring to.”

The councilors exchanged glances, their faces pensive. At last Varahamihira spoke.

“The Hunas and Sakas in the west, a sightless, nameless evil from the south, and now Magadha to the east... I wonder what nasty surprises the north has in store for us.”

***

Muffled footsteps accompanied the hooded figure as it slipped through the darkened bylanes of Udaypuri, keeping to the shadows as far as possible. The figure was moving in a northerly direction, away from the fort and the town center, heading toward the seamier quarters of Udaypuri, where the houses got progressively smaller, and the streets became narrower and more squalid.

The only thing that appeared to increase in this congested part of the garrison town was poverty. And organized crime.

Yet, the figure pressed forward without the slightest hint of trepidation, leaping over open, overflowing drains, and twisting in and out of the stench-filled maze with familiarity. Finally, having climbed up a small deserted alley, the figure came to a halt in front of an anonymous building with a rough, wooden door.

Making a quick check of the surroundings, the figure rapped on the door, four times in quick succession. Almost immediately, a latch rattled inside, and the door opened a few inches. Dim light squeezed out of the crack, as a rough voice spoke from behind the door.